


hard feelings

by alwaysayes



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: 3+1, First Times, M/M, but its okay, lowkey sad, soft fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-26 19:55:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13864893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alwaysayes/pseuds/alwaysayes
Summary: “Stop thinking so loud.” Adam said.“Shut up, Parrish.”Was that enough?Did his actions show he meant more than shut up? Did his uneven breathing prove to Adam that I love you is more than a fist? Did the quake in his voice show that he meant so much more with every time he said shut up?“Make me.”(alternatively, three times ronan almost said i love you and one time he did)





	hard feelings

**Author's Note:**

> HI i love 3+1 fics and i love sad fluffy pynch so HELL YEAH HEREU GO ! its kinda shitty but s/o to june bc she helped me w a bunch of stuff and s/o to the raven buds gc in general love yall and also i wrote this like rlly rlly fast sorry

 

Ronan Lynch grew up around love. His mother doting on him, Matthew being a ray of sunshine, his father playing favourites, and he always gave it back. Love in his house was shown through paper sack lunches with sticky notes adhered to the cling wrap around the bread of heart-shaped peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (but not for Declan, he was allergic to peanuts), favorite snacks, and milkshakes after church. In kisses on the cheek at bedtime, bedtime stories of a foreign land, and teasing words from siblings that hit like a marshmallow in the stomach. He never expected anything else, never _knew_ anything else. And then his father died, and his mother went catatonic, and Matthew was still the same, but Declan was stone cold to him, like a chiseled marble statue that was once a man. Ronan was no longer himself either- he engaged in activities he never would have dreamed of sober. Racing, whatever drugs Kavinsky would give him, the feeling of cold hands down his back while he was blackout drunk. But he knew it was nothing compared to Adam.

Adam Parrish, who had never felt love other than what his father claimed was so; a blazing hot solid rock fist slamming into his stomach when he came home late from work, a blow so hard he would wish he were dead, or the buzzing in his deaf ear. Adam experienced a loosely named love in fists and free lunch plans, in screams and metal walls closing him in. He experienced love in his mother telling him to be quieter so the neighbours would not here, who said if the neighbours were to hear they would be evicted. He never knew what Ronan knew; never knew that true love lay not in a closed fist but in a kiss on the back of the hand, never knew that true love lay not in an angry blow but in a shared bed.

Which was why Ronan was afraid to say it.

Ronan Lynch, who had never been afraid of love, was scared to say it.

.

**i.**

It was a normal Saturday night for them. They were lying in Ronan’s bed at Monmouth (never at St. Agnes, it was far too close to something Ronan used to be), and Adam’s hands were in Ronan’s. They were intertwined in the way one may see children holding hands on a playground, in a way that seemed so innocent (because it was).

Music was playing over the stereo- not the loud and aggressive music Ronan often found himself listening to in bouts of sadness or rage, but something Adam picked. The Pixies.

Ronan never thought he would listen to The Pixies of his own volition.

The lights were dim, with just a lamp on (and the light behind Ronan’s eyes and he brought Adam’s hands to his lips).  It was an intimate moment, and if anyone were to peek in on the scene it would be a violation of a safe space.

It was seemingly nothing that threw him over, but as Adam looked over at him with half lidded eyes, Ronan’s heart sunk into his feet and a weird feeling rose in his stomach.

He needed to say it to him.

But what if he scared him away?

If love was too much, or

if love was associated with that stupid fucking trailer park.

He would not say it.

Ronan’s eyes closed.

“Stop thinking so loud.” Adam said.

“Shut up, Parrish.”

Was that enough?

Did his actions show he meant more than _shut up_ ? Did his uneven breathing prove to Adam that _I love you_ is more than a fist? Did the quake in his voice show that he meant so much more with every time he said shut up?

“Make me.”

 _Adam must have a thing for physical touch,_ Ronan thought.

How do you show a broken person love with actions?

“Adam, I-”

“Shit,” Adam said suddenly. “I have a shift at Boyd’s in the morning.”

Ronan sighed.

“I can drive you.”

“No, I really need to go. I have homework anyway.”

_How do you show a broken person love with actions?_

“Can I at least drive you home? Or are you going to insist on riding your stupid bike?”

“I’ll go on my own.”

“Adam-”

“Ronan, don’t turn this into a thing. It’s not a thing. I need my own space sometimes.”  
_Fuck._

“I-”  
“I promise you, if this were a thing you would know.”   
“It isn’t a thing yet but it feels like you’re trying to make it one.”

“ _Ronan._ ”

“ _Parrish._ ”

 _God I fucked it up,_ Ronan crossed himself in his head because if he did it now Adam would see and know what he was thinking and

He took a breath.

“I’ll see you.” He said.

Adam rose from the bed, removing his hands from Ronan’s grip.

“I-,” Ronan paused. “Text me when you get home.”

“Text me when you learn how to use your phone.” Adam grinned. His teeth were visible when he grinned, and sometimes it set Ronan on fire, but sometimes it ripped him apart. That smile was because of him. That smile was also because of the fact that Adam was free. That smile was not because Adam could not hear out of one ear. That smile was not because Adam was okay after only three months away from his father.

But that smile was caused by Ronan.

 _I love you,_ Ronan could have said. _I love you to the moon and back._

Ronan watched as Adam’s back shrunk as he walked down the hallway, watched as Adam walked out the door.

He would hold his breath forever.

**ii.**

They had not fought for a while. Before they were a they, they were at each other’s necks every second. Ronan would make a passing comment about money, Adam would make a passing comment about alcohol, Gansey would try to break it up, Ronan would stalk away. Before they were a they, Ronan was choking back his feelings like vomit and Adam pretended not to notice.

And then they were a they, and suddenly the fights vanished like a boat into fog. Angry words were replaced with soft kisses, near punches replaced with lips touching hands with a velvety softness.

But of course, it would not stay like that forever.

Over the course of knowing Ronan, Adam had realized something.

Ronan Lynch picked fights when he needed something. When he needed to know the people he cared for weren’t going anywhere.

And so on the one night that things in Ronan’s head should have been quiet, he exploded.

“Adam, I don’t understand why you have to be working all the time.” He said, watching Adam do his AP Statistics homework from where he sat on Adam’s bed.

“Ronan,” Adam sighed. “If you’re gonna start something with me, just go. I could use the quiet to work so I can pass high school.” _Unlike you,_ was the unsaid.

“Fine,” Ronan said. “I guess I can go.” He was gritting his teeth and Adam could feel his jaw tensing.

“Tell me what you need from me.” Adam said, looking up from his homework and glancing at Ronan.

“To be able to say shit without you thinking I’m trying to fight you.”

“You _are_ trying to fight me. You do this all the time-”   
“I don’t do _anything,_ Parrish-”   
“ _Ronan.”_ Adam said.

Ronan froze, looking away.

“I am not trying to start a fight. I want to know what you want.”

“I want,” Ronan said. “To be yours when you’re with me. I don’t give a shit what you tell your friends at school, what you tell anyone else, what you tell Gansey and Blue, tell them we’re just enemies who hatefuck, I don’t care. But when I’m with you- when you’re at Monmouth or when I’m here with you I want to be what’s on your mind.” _I want you to love me. I don’t want to wake up to a note that says you had to go into work early. I want you to make me breakfast and kiss me in the kitchen. I want to watch sunsets with you and hold hands and watch Opal grow up and watch shitty horror movies with you._

“Ronan I-”  
“Drop it. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“You should have told me.” Adam said.

“I said, Parrish, to drop it.”

“You shouldn’t have to tell me that. I should do it anyway but I just-”

“I don’t even care. I never should have said anything.”

“Ronan.” Adam’s voice was soft but firm, the same tone Ronan’s father used to use when he saw him teasing the cows out on the grass.

“I’m sorry,” Ronan was saying. “It’s stupid, you don’t have to actually pay attention to me I don’t give a shit-”

“ _Ronan.”_

“I’m serious it doesn’t matter I-”

“ _Ronan_.”

Ronan looked back at him.

“You matter to me.”

Ronan nodded.

Adam had never seen him so vulnerable.

“I want you to be the only thing on my mind all the time, but I have to get into Harvard. And I have to get out of here. I know that this place is your home, but I’m going to leave eventually. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to leave you.”

“I-” Ronan started. “I understand.”

What he didn’t say was _I love you._

What he didn’t say was _I need you._

What he didn’t say was _I can’t breathe when you’re around._

What he didn’t say was _I can’t breathe when you aren’t around._

What he didn’t say was-

He snapped out of it.

He would say it eventually.

Adam would know eventually.

But would he ever say it back?

Ronan didn’t leave. He lay there on the bed while Adam finished his homework, counting down the days until all of his friends would graduate, counting down the days until Declan would give him the condescending look that said _That could have been you, Ronan_.

Adam shucked his t-shirt and jeans off, crawling in bed next to Ronan, who was wearing Adam’s Aglionby sweatshirt and a pair of dog pajama pants.

“I can feel you holding your breath.” Adam said.

“The only thing I’m holding is your hand, dumbass.” Ronan said, rolling over to face Adam.

“Don’t bullshit me. You’re holding something back.”

Ronan opened his mouth to say something, but Adam met him with a kiss.

“You don’t have to tell me what it is.”

“Well good, because I wasn’t going to anyway.”

“God, Ronan.”

Ronan lay silently staring at Adam.

He could count every freckle on Adam’s sunkissed skin, this perfect caramel with flecks of chocolate strewn throughout.

“What are you thinking about?” Adam asked, watching as Ronan’s eyes drank up the picture before him.

“How you should get a cat.” Ronan said eventually, rolling back over and trying his best to not let go of Adam’s hand.

“But Ronan,” Adam wheezed. “I thought you didn’t like pussy.”

“Oh my God,” Ronan said. “You’re gay. I’m breaking up with you.”

“You wouldn’t.” Adam said, squeezing tighter on Ronan’s hand.

“You’re right, you love me too much.”

Adam froze.

Ronan’s shoulders tensed up.

“Who’s gay now?”

“Oh my fucking God, Parrish. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Ronan.” Adam grinned.

They fell asleep like that, fingers interlocked, grins on their faces.

But Ronan still hadn’t said it.

What if it scared him away?

Was an _I love you_ worse than the nightmres and the terrors and the shaking and sobbing in the middle of the night? Was an _I love you_ worse than seeing his father’s body in the driveway? Worse than the bruises Adam had? Or the memory of seeing Gansey’s body?

Ronan shook it off.

Sleep was beckoning in his brain, like counting sheep with his father as a child, and so he followed.

**iii.**

**adam:** Hey Ronan.

 **Ronan:** hey parrish

 **adam:** Conneticut is lonely.

 **Ronan:** im a little lonely

 **Ronan:** ha gay

 **adam:** How are you doing?

 **adam:** Having anymore nightmares?   
**Ronan:** im always having nightmares

 **Ronan:** nothign i cant handle with some vodk

 **Ronan:** a

 **adam:** Ro, are you taking care of yourself?   
**Ronan:** ffffukc off i can take care o fmyself

 **Ronan:** anyway im notev en drinking alon e

 **adam:** Oh, no.

 **adam:** I mean, that’s good, but who are you with?

 **Ronan:** matty

 **Ronan:** he’s stOne cold sob er though dont wrroy

 **adam:** Ronan, go drink some water and I’ll call you.

 **Ronan:** oka y

 **Ronan:** i missyou

 **adam:** I miss you too, Ro.

 **Ronan:** im gonna come visit you

 **Ronan:** icouldl eave rigth now

 **adam:** I’m gonna call you.

 **Ronan:** call me n any dayorngith

 **Ronan:** ill bet ehre

 **INCOMING CALL:** adam parrish

“Hey, Ro.” Adam said gently.

“Adam,” Ronan slurred. Adam could hear his grin through the phone, could picture his hazy eyes and his softening jaw as the alcohol took the tension from his body.

“How are you?”

“Cut the,” Hiccup. “Shit, Parrish. You know I,” Hiccup, “Miss you.”

“Ronan,” Adam said, softening his voice for the one person he was soft for. “You need to take care of yourself.”

“I am!” Ronan protested. “I didn’t take anything tonight or pick a fight.”

Adam laughed.

When he laughed it was a holy thing, something that set Ronan’s entire body ablaze. But he would never say so.

“For most people, that’s common sense.”

“Adam,” Ronan said (whined), “When are you gonna come home? And stay with me?”

“I don’t know. When I have time.”

“When will you have time?”

“When I’m not dealing with my annoying drunk boyfriend.”  
“Haha,” Ronan said. “Wait, you think I’m annoying?”

“I also said you were my boyfriend.”

Ronan paused.

“Gay.”

“You got it, Ronan.”

“I really miss you.”

“I really miss you too.”

It was quiet aside from breathing on both ends of the phone for a moment.

“Where are you right now?”  
“A corner.”

“But where are you?”

“The Barns.”

“Ronan,” Adam said tenderly.

“I’m sorry I’m just,” Ronan paused, “Really fucking drunk.”

“It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry for getting so drunk I didn’t mean to-”

“Ro, don’t worry. It’s fine. Just drink some water and go to bed, okay?”

“I just,” Pause. “Wish you could be here. I’m sorry for distracting you from your work-”  
“You aren’t. I didn’t have anything to do, it’s fine.”

“I’m gonna go.” Ronan said.

“Ronan, no, you’re fine-”

“I- okay.”

“Text me when you wake up, Ro. I need to hear from you more.”

“I will.”

“I lo-”

Ronan ended the call.

/

**+i**

August to December is not that long. Four months away from the one you love should not feel like your back being broken vertebrae by vertebrae (but for some reason it does). And Ronan Lynch was lonely.

Thanksgiving was lonely. He had spent it with Declan and Matthew at The Barns, almost like the holidays he used to spend with his parents. Declan had tried to make the turkey the same way his father had, tried to make the orange rolls like his mother, but they were not perfect. It was not the same.

Not only was Ronan missing his parents, he was missing the piece of his heart shaped like two different cars molded into one, missing his magician.

It was three days before Christmas when Gansey, Blue, and Henry swung into the Barns.

Two days before Adam did.

Ronan found himself wanting to set things on fire again, wanting to drink or something, losing his breath over the thought of seeing Adam again.

Ronan lay in bed on December 23rd, watching the clock and listening for the telltale rattling of the engine of Adam’s shitbox, checking his phone (which was a rare occasion).

When he heard the rattle of the car, his heart lept into his throat.

Adam.

He brushed it off, trying to act chill when Adam rapped on the door of his bedroom.

“Hey, asshole.” Adam said.

“Parrish,”

“Did you miss me?” He grinned.  
“Not at all, fucker.”

“You love me.” Adam said.

“Yeah,” Ronan replied. “I really do.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> title from lordes hard feelings/loveless, follow me on tumblr @mustangczerny and twiter @blinknoah Thanks !


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